PRAISE TALOS!
by Elder Dragon Izanagi
Summary: Banished from Whiterun by Jarl Balgruuf at the High Queen's orders, and after a long voyage across the Sea of Ghosts and the Padomaic Ocean, Heimskr the Doomsayer has suddenly spotted mysterious new land on the horizon. Equestria's public gathering places may now be under threat from a force far more annoying or foul than Discord, Chrysalis, and Nightmare Moon combined.
1. Skooma on the High Seas

**I have no idea how I come up with stories like these...**

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Skooma on the High Seas

The waves of the Padomaic Ocean rolled furiously against the small Nordic longboat as it made its way slowly across the ever-treacherous waters. It's sails billowed in the sheer gust of wind, and its timbers groaned under the mast as it distributed the stress of the gales down through to the ship's thick timber frame. Resting upon the vessel's deck, was a single, solitary figure huddled against the mast.

From afar the figure resembled a man of rather average height and weight build clad in a rain and wind-battered priestly robe. The garments were of faded brown, and came with an orange cowl under which the man now shivered.

Next to the lone voyager, sat his few remaining possessions. A barely burning oil lantern, a small set of books in a satchel, and a chest full of his personal effects. In all earnesty, the contents of the chest were not much to behold either. Several bags of salted salmon, a tavern's worth of Cyrodillic brandy (likely pilfered from the Solitude docks), some extra clothes, a purse with 1000 septims. There were other things contained within as well... Things the man would rather anyone not know he possessed at all, given his supposed priestly nature.

All of these items were sheltered by the protective aura of a shield charm, provided courtesy of the College of Winterhold. The shield kept out the rain, but the wind still managed to get through at times, chilling the man to his bones. Shor, Akatosh, or someone was obviously not pleased with the voyager.

As yet another of the ferocious ocean gales blew in from Tamriel's direction, the lone priest muttered to himself.

"Hagravens' saggy, frozen... _Damn winds_! At least I'm clear from the Sea of Ghosts, the Gods-blasted ice, and those dreughs almost killed me! Talos be praised I've made it even this far!"

The journey had been a long one.

Having been banished from Skyrim by the High Queen Elisif the Fair for quote, "Crimes of public indecency and mischief against Skyrim and her people", the priest had been (ever so politely) shipped out from Whiterun in a large wooden crate, possessions and all, straight to Solitude.

The guards had let him wander around the Solitude docks unsupervised as the ship he was going to be thrown into was summarily prepared for him. By the time they had finally snatched him back up, the now angry Priest had stolen several thousand septims worth of shipping goods (and some contraband he had stumbled upon) from the East Empire Company.

Surely Tiber Septim would not disapprove, given how the poor man was being treated by the Queen's men and everything, right? When asked about the surprisingly extreme weight the chest had now gained, the priest had responded, saying his items were simply, "Heavy with Talos' holy blessings for the journey."

Not being very bright, the guards simply shrugged, one of them saying, "No lollygagging."

"Get to the ship, before we haul you off to the Solitude Dungeons _instead_." Another ordered.

"I have soldiers to train, and i don't feel like dealing with the likes of you! Off to the boat, now!" Captain Aldis had said, finally hustling the priest onto his journey into exile.

Once they had manhandled his items and various junk onto the waiting longboat, he was ordered to sail out immediately.

They gave him everything he would need to survive for a month or until he had reached land somewhere far from Skyrim. Even though he was no sailor, they had also sarcastically left copies of _Father of the Niben_, _Pirate King of the Abecean_, and _The Lusty Argonian Maid _to quote "Help him along."

From there, the journey had take the exiled priest across hundreds of miles of icy sea, which then gave way to the warmer waters of the Ocean, where we now find our weary traveler. Despite the transition from snow to rain, the sea refused to give up on its onslaught of high winds, almighty thunder, and powerful waves.

The wind was now beginning to drive him truly crazy, and he muttered ever more frequently to himself.

"Calm yourself Heimskr." He said to himself in his thick Nordic accent. "Ain't nothing in the winds but your own imagination. No pointy-eared Thalmor anywhere within over a thousand miles! Ha Ha!" He chuckled maniacally.

Suddenly, a particularly powerful maelstrom of wind blew through the shield charm, blowing Heimskr's books around, and knocking open the lid of his chest.

Out of it rolled a rather worn copy of From the Many-Headed Talos, and two small vials of purple liquid. Reverently, the priest hastily snatched up the book and wrapped in a fine silk cloth he grabbed from inside his robes. Ever so gently, Heimskr deposited the book into the chest. Then, warily the man gave a glance at the two potions before him, rolling with the ship as it rode the waves.

Shrugging, Heimskr grabbed the Skooma. "Ah, sod it! The Ocean's going to swallow me whole anyhow. I'm sure Talos will find someone else to praise his name in Tamriel. To Aetherius then!"

Raising the vials to the sky, the Nord downed the narcotics in a single swig. The effects washed over him faster than a tsunami could have even capsized his little longboat.

Heimskr was forced to slump against the mast he had been huddling against for so long. His vision swam, and the stormy air began to warp, and became very colorful.

Eventually, the odd, vertigo-inducing vision morphed into a full-blown hallucination. The priest of Talos sat wide-eyed and slack-jawed as a humanoid figure manifested into existence before him. A few moments passed, before the figure took on a form with discernible features.

Strange music, tunes that sounded like something a little girl would hum, played all around him, further cofounding his now drug-addled mind.

Standing before Heimskr now, was a Khajiit. The cat man was garbed in robes almost identical to his, and he now turned to look at the shocked Nord with knowing, clever feline eyes.

"Who... Who are you? STAY AWAY!" Heimskr cried out, reeling in the opposite direction.

In response, the Khajiit flashed him an amused grin, exposing two rows of pearly, needle-sharp feline fangs. "Calm yourself Nord. M'aiq comes not to scare, pilfer, or tease. Rather, he merely has a message to deliver. For you see priest, t'is not your day to die. The Nine Divines have other plans for you. Of this, Khajiit is sure."

Still trying to get a safe distance away from the Khajiit, Heimskr replied. "What are you talking about? What plans?"

Rainbows arced out of the storm swollen air behind where M'aiq the Liar stood. "As M'aiq says, you are not to die in a watery grave. Just beyond the veil of this fierce sky tempest, lies a Land, you see. A Land, upon which shines not the Twin Moons, but one Moon, of brilliant silver. Silver as fine as the Moon Sugar made by Shegorath, the Great Skooma Cat himself."

Still grinning, the M'aiq apparition continued. "Follow the rainbows through and beyond the wicked storm, and therein you will find the Land of which M'aiq speaks. There lives a people, who have heard not of the mightiest man who ever lived. The Nine Divines wish for you to spread the word of your holy Talos to the shamefully ignorant ears of this new land."

Heimskr's eyes widened even further. "I am to _honor_ mighty Talos once more?!"

The robed Khajiit nodded impatiently. "Yes! Have you not been listening to M'aiq? You are to go forth, and continue your praise of the Ninth Divine, Nord priest, in this new land. M'aiq is tired now. I go away." He said in his purr-like Elswyr accent.

"WAIT! Where are you going, Khajiit? Who lives in the new Land?"

"No. Khajiit is too tired to answer questions now. Go ask mud crabs when you arrive ashore who dwells there. Maybe they can answer, if they don't try to sell flin, sujamma, or mead to you. Their prices are robbery, and they drink too much of their own stock to talk to easily. M'aiq has warned you."

With one final grin to the hallucinating priest, the robed Khajiit vanished into a pink mist. His departure was marked by a mysterious, sweetly pleasant-sounding feminine voice.

"Ohh! Pinkie Sense tingling! Somepony new is coming towards Equestria!"

"Pinkie Pie, how on earth could you possibly know that?" Another voice, also feminine sounding, asked.

"Pinkie sense silly! How else? OH MY GOSH, I'LL HAVE TO PLAN A WELCOME PARTY FOR TOMORROW!"

"My oh my, Pinkie Pie! What a wild imagination you possess, darling." A third, posh feminine voice replied.

For Heimskr, he was certain he was truly tripping out now. Not even Khajiits were crazy enough to down _two_ things of Skooma _at once!_ Momentarily, the warping air and hypnotic colors wore away, and the odd music faded into silence, in a rather creepy fashion.

As the last of the effects of the drug finally (apparently) wore off after a few more moments, the priest noticed that the storm had now abated ever so slightly. In the West, Heimskr beheld an amazing sight.

Just like M'aiq the Liar had (oddly) honestly promised, a new land now lay before him. Exquisite rainbows, real and not hallucinated, gleamed as they pointed towards the golden, beautiful coast. Just beside the trees, stood a massive bay, through which a city larger and more magnificent then anything Heimskr had ever seen stood.

While the man stood on his longboat beholding the new sights, a loud sound drew his attention away from the exotic coast.

A large bolt of lightning struck the deck, a little too close to Heimskr's belongings for comfort. Appoaching the charred wood, the Nord Priest found a large hard-back book, strangely intact. On top of it was an Amulet of Talos. Grabbing the amulet, Heimskr reverently stowed it in his robes, then looked back at the book.

It was titled, _Complete History of Equestria: A Begginer's Guide._

Before bringing the ship about, Heimskr took a long break to skim through the book. At the back cover, he found an odd note.

_Heimskr_

_Your kinsman have seen fit to banish you from beloved Skyrim._

_But fear not! A new land of opportunity now lays before you!_

_Go forth, and spread word of my feats! Bring the light of the Empire and the Divines to those who do not know of it!_

_Yours in Confidence,_

_Almighty Talos_

Upon reading the note, Heimskr raised his hands in the air, clutching the Amulet of Talos in his hands. He turned to face the midday Sun, which was now shining through the dissipating storm clouds. Opening his mouth, the ever-annoying priest let out a loud cry.

"PRAISE TALOS!"

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**Author's Note:**

**I intended for this to just be a one shot, but it's growing on me... I also have an Oblivion crossover involving a revived Martin Septim in Equestria currently in the works.**


	2. Arrival

Twas was a long while before Heimskr could reach the massive, gleaming foreign city he had seen. For several hours he attempted to navigate the small craft across the now gentle waters of the bay, of which he had quickly learned from _Complete History of Equestria: A Beginner's Guide_, was called Horseshoe Bay.

The blue waters gleamed in the afternoon sun, and seagulls quailed and chirped in the skies above. One such bird nearly dropped a surprise on one of the Priest of Talos' favorite books,_Varieties of Faith in the Empire._ Grumbling, the priest attempted to cast an ice spike at the creature.

"Flying _rats!_ Talos smite you all! Pray to Stendaar that my accuracy does not improve!" He half expected to see a lightning bolt come out of the now calm white clouds and fry the sea birds into cheap skeever meat. But to no avail.

Sighing to himself, the robed man resigned to having a sit against the mast as usual, and opened up one of the dozens of ill-gained casks of cyrodillic brandy. Heimskr took swig after swig of the hardy (if surprisingly sweet tasting) beverage. To stave off his boredom as he jostled the now empty bottle around, Heimskr (angrily) recalled the times just before his imposed exile.

It was a mild, pleasant evening in Whiterun, many a week ago. Heimskr had been marched up to Dragon's Reach by a couple of guards wearing ridiculous conical helmets, who refused to tell him what he was being summoned for.

"What is the meaning of this interruption?! Whiterun must heed my words, the _Word of Mighty Tacos_! THE DAMN ELVES WANT TO KILL US ALL! They deserve nothing more than to feel the power of our huge, _glorious_..."

"That's enough out of you!"

"Man's been hitting the Skooma, I say!"

The guards tsk-tsked and prodded the priest along with the rim of their wood and steel-studded shields. Their chain mail shirts rattled quietly as they went. One of the guards snorted. "My cousin's out fighting dragons. And what do I get? Heimskr duty!"

His companion shrugged, as he prodded Heimskr with his shield once more. "I've got to thinking... Maybe I'm the Dragonborn, and I just don't know it yet!"

"Idiot! Have you just come out from under a rock? Everyone knows that Khajiit what-his-name Legate was the one who vanquished Alduin!"

The other guard shrugged again. "Oh yeah... Well a guard can't help but dream, can he?"

Marching up to the front door of the Dragon's Reach palace, residence of Jarl Balgruuf the Greater, an random Imperial Guard appeared out of nowhere and turned to look at them through his sleek, crested helmet. "You have my ear, citizen." He greeted.

"Hey, mage? Why don't you conjure me up a warm bed eh?" The door guard replied, opening up the door to admit the two other guards and Heimskr. "What is it?" The door guard said to the three as they entered the Great Hall. The guards and priest ignored him.

When the door closed behind him, the Imperial Guard turned towards the Whiterun Guard at the door. "Looks like you, are in _some trouble!_ Since we're friends, don't worry. I'll look the other way, and take care of that fine for you."

"No lollygagging." The nord guard replied. The two guards then stood there, simply staring at each other.

As the prisoner and guards crossed the Great Hall towards the Jarl's throne, One of Balgruuf's sons, Frothar, looked at them in mock surprise. "Oh boy, _another_ prisoner! Here to lick my fathers_balls_?" He blurted out.

The two guards restraining Heimskr stared at the boy, their body language conveying irritation.

Frothar grinned. "It's too bad their _gone._ I wouldn't have believed it, if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes!" He walked away, giggling loudly. The two men shrugged, and continued hauling Heimskr up to the throne.

"What the hell are you doing dressed as a damn woman?!'" One of Heimskr's guard's inquired in alarm.

Balgruuf the Greater, garbed in a women's dress with make up on his cheeks and eyelids, fixed his eyes on them, narrowing them in displeasure. "I am not a boy, but neither am I a _man_! Now, what is it I can help you with?"

"We've brought up the priest as you've requested my lord!"

The trans-gender nord looked at the Priest of Talos first with recognition, then distaste. "Aye. Queen Elisif wants this annoying milk drinker out of my City, and so do I. Throw him into that freaky jester's crate that we confiscated from yonder the Loreius Farm. Then, send him up north with his junk. Let the man be Solitude's problem."

Heimskr's eyes had widened. "Tiber Septim curse you all! You're all puppets of THE THALMOR! I have to stay and spread Talos' message across the land!"

The Jarl gave a harrumph. "You should have thought about that, before you started waving your unclothed rear end in my citizens' faces. Get this giant skeever dropping out of my sight, NOW!" Balgruff ordered.

As the guards nodded an lead the robed-priest away, Balgruff watched them. "Now if ya don't mind, I've got a city to keep!"

Thus did the 'Chosen' of Talos begin his journey across land, sea, and ice, to far-flung Equestria.

Snapping back to the present, Heimskr look up from the bottle in his hands. He was now only about a hundred feet from a sandbank.

Bringing the ship about in a rather novice fashion, The Priest of Talos made landing on Equestrian soil. Running his sandal clad feet through the warm sea salt-licked sand, Heimskr looked around with his hand at his forehead, surveying the land.

The city he had spied, his intended destination, lay just beyond the thicket and tree line spread out before him. A voice in his mind had told him to avoid the city's docks, as trouble could possibly lurk therein. The beach he was on had several inhabitants. Rocks and mudcrabs being the most abundant. More of the seagulls were gathering around a dead fish that had washed up just a few feet away.

The smell came downwind to him, and Heimskr wrinkled his face in distaste. Just as the priest finally recalled the M'aiq apparition's warning about mud crab merchants, one appeared at his feet.

The small creature had a gray shell shaped to resemble a rock for camouflage. What was notable about him however, was the fact that the mud crab was donning a fashionable top hat and monocle, giving him a gentlemanly air. His compatriots around him mostly did not share his fashion sense, wearing nothing, or equipping pointy colovian fur hats instead.

The well-dressed crustacean was now tugging at the hem of Heimskr's robes with his pincers, trying to catch the priest's attention. Promptly with alarm, the man looked down.

"Hey, mister... whatcha say we worked out a deal, ehhh buddy? Three bottles of spiced wine, and a vial of skooma, all fer just the price ovva bottle of flin! Now thazza bargain..." Heimskr did not say anything back, only falling to the sand with a girlish shriek and frantically crab-walking far away from the inebriated crustacean.

Climbing back onto to the beached longboat, Heimskr stood on a rower's bench and looked out at the expanse of the beach. He was in search of anything that resembled a humanoid figure, and was frantically avoiding anything that remotely seemed to possess a shell or pincers.

Finally after a minute of scanning, he was greeted by neither of the above.

Instead, he saw what resembled a small, colorful horse, sitting some distance away. Much to the priest's disbelief, the quadruped appeared to be _fishing._

"I've got to stop drinking the Skooma. Damn stuff goes down the gullet like Dremora piss... But then again, how else can I most effectively commune with Talos and hear His Holy Word? It always give me the extra jolt to spread the message to the people!" Heimskr mused.

"Sod it! That Khajiit never said the inhabitants of this 'Equestria' were Human or, _Elven_anyhow. And now the book's mentioning of 'Ponies' makes sense anyways." He put a hand to his chin in thought as he gazed at the fisherpony curiosly.

The stallion gave no indication he had noticed the boat, or Heimskr. He seemd to be sleeping on his chair, while his casted bait lines and lobster and crab cages sat unattended beside him.

"I've got it! I shall inquire of this native if they truly have heard of Talos or the Nine Divines! TALOS GUIDE ME! I have made it to land!"

The robed-human then made his way over to the oblivious, sleeping pony.


	3. To Baltimare and Beyond

As Heimskr approached the sleeping stallion casually, a small mudcrab locked in one of the fisherpony's cages mumbled to himself drunkenly.

"How dryyy Ah amm... Noh' body knowws...how dry I am.."

Stepping around the caged crustacean with a disgusted grimace, the priest of Talos stared at pony. The stallion had a simple gray coat and a mane and the tail the color of juniper berries.

Heimskr noticed something resembling a tattoo, or war paint, on the fisherpony's flank. Such were common among Nordic warriors. Upon closer inspection, the image was shown to be nothing more than two crossed fishing poles. The nord scoffed at the sight.

"This must be one them 'cutie' marks that weird history book mentioned." He thought aloud. While the noise of his voice did not awaken the snoozing pony, it did trigger a rather loud snore.

The priest snorted, unimpressed. "Trotting around with little cutie marks on em'. What a bunch o' little milk drinkers!" In response, the stallion snored again, and mumbled something as he absent-mindedly rubbed at his muzzle.

Sighing, Heimskr produced another flask of cyrodillic brandy, this only a quarter full. He downed the rest of the expensive alcohol, set it aside, then cupped his hands to his mouth, and leaned towards the stallion.

"HELLO FRIEND! HAVE YOU HEARD OF THE DIVINES , OR TALOS, THE MIGHTIEST AMONG THEM?" Heimskr inquired in his sermon-speaking voice.

Unbelievably, the stallion hardly stirred, still sound asleep.

"Bah!" Heimskr tossed the empty brandy bottle out into the ocean. The container hit the water with a distant 'thunk!'.

That was when a lighting bolt, the second today, struck the ground three feet from the priest. The resulting impact turning the sand to glass.

Standing on the glass, was a random bard, of the type commonly encountered throughout Skyrim. Next to her, was a large cave bear with a brown coat. He was somehow holding a lute in his paws.

The bard stared off into space for a few moments, before she pulled a drum out of nowhere. "I will now perform, a personal favorite of mine."

She began beating on the drum, while the bear casually played the lute, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

"_Oh... There's once was a hero named Ragnar the Red, who came riding in from old Rorikstead!..." _

A draugr whose' lungs had long since turned to dust, or a choir of pissed off manticores, likely could have produced better melody. The noise caused Heimskr to double down, gripping his hands to his ears under his cowl, trying to blot out the horrendous noise.

This proved enough to awaken the stallion as well, who fell out of his chair in alarm. The bard and lute-playing bear disappeared in a flash of magical energy before the pony could notice them, and he now stared at Heimskr wide-eyed.

"What...What are you?"

Heimskr flashed the awoken pony a creepy smile from under his orange cowl. "Greetings friend! I've come to your land from distant Skyrim! I stand before you now, to share with you the WORD OF HOLY Tacos... " His voice dropped lower for a second, before resuming. "TALOS"

The fisherpony squinted his eyes in confusion, his ears falling flat. "The who, to where the what now?" He sputtered back.

The priest figured for once that he had laid things on a little too thick, so he decided give the equine local a break. If anyone could help Heimskr find a viable place to set up and begin his holy work, it would be this stallion.

Heimskr cleared his throat, and gave the pony what he hoped to be a friendly grin. "Forgive me for rudely awakening you, friend! You can call me Heimskr, priest of Talos, and Son of Skyrim. A pure-blooded human Nord denizen of Skyrim, through and through!"

His pony observer continued to stare at the Nord, completely dumbfounded that something like this had been coughed up by the ocean, while he had been _asleep_. The fisherpony took mental note, never to fall asleep on a beach ever again.

"Ugh.." Still unsure how to address such a random, exotic-looking individual from a land apparently thousands of miles away , he stammered back a response.

"I'm, ugh.. Line, Line Caster, earth pony."

Heimskr nodded slowly, secretly as unimpressed with the name as he was with the pony's cutie mark. "So, you're a common fishmonger then?"

After a few moments pondering the archaic sounding word, the stallion nodded back.

"Ayep."

The Priest of Talos scrunched his face as the sun glared at his eyes. "Curses, this sun is starting to bugger me already! Do you known where I can find a proper drinking establishment around here, or a Temple of the Divines? I wish to see your religious leaders, for you see, I have the holy task of..."

The mystique of the Nord finally dying off, Line Caster gained enough of his bravado back to cut the rambling priest off. "Whoa, whoa! Hol' up there mack!" He said in his Baltimare accent.

"I wouldn't know about any o' that holier-than-thou spiritual business. But I know somewhere ya might find somepony who could get ya a good start." The stallion got up, and gathered his equipment, catches included.

Holding the handle of the crab cage in his mouth, Line Caster turned towards Heimskr. "Can you believe I caught this one tryin' ta sell me cheap booze on the beach?! Snatched em' right up!" The priest nodded, giving the mudcrab a scathing scowl.

"Hey pal... ya let me go, and I might be willin' to part with a few bottles of..." The mudcrab murmured.

"Shut it!" Line Caster hissed. "A catch this size, who needs tuna! This one's going straight to market. You should be able find where you should start on the way there, I'll show ya the way. That sound dapper to you?"

Heimskr shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever gets me off this mudcrab-infested beach faster. I suppose I'll collect my possessions when I return here." Line Caster raised his eyebrows, as he eyed the ship the human had arrived in.

"They be on that ship of yours?"

"Aye."

"Welp, I suppose I can carry your cra... I mean possessions in my cart and what not into the city." The earth pony motioned a hoof towards a rickety-looking wooden cart. Heimskr sincerely doubted the vehicle's ability to carry his chest and all, but he wasn't about to turn down a free ride.

After a few more minutes of lugging the super heavy chest from the longboat up to the fisherpony's cart, the two set off up the coast. Heimskr had managed to fit everything he had in the single large chest. Even all the stuff that didn't seem like it could fit, actually did because Nordic chests from Skyrim are just made like that apparently.

As they went around a bend of the dirt road, the vegetation and trees gave way to reveal the glorious skyline of tall, gleaming buildings Heimskr had glimpsed from afar.

"Talos' beard..." The massive skyscrapers took the priest's breath away, more so than any fierce Skyrim blizzard could. Sensing his wonder and awe, Line Caster grinned at the Nord.

"That there's the damn fine city o' Baltimare, Heimskr." He said as he pulled the cart. Behind Caster on the wagon bed sat Heimskr, who murmured back in response.

"I know. I read it in a book. Never before have I seen such a magnificent sight. Surely the Nine Divines themselves fashioned the buildings with their very hands..."

Line Caster gave the skyline an appreciative glance as he made his way towards it down the road, "Ain't she just a beauty? I'm from there, born and raised. I only fish out here on account of the docks being too noisy, scares away the best of the catch, you see."

"Is that so?" Heimskr muttered back.

While the sights still awed him, the Nord found himself sandwiched between two menaces, one old, and one new. The first, sat across from him, still in its cage. The priest hated them back home, and he still hated them now.

The second, was Line Caster, who was now giving a random lecture about how to, and not to properly catch fish and crustaceans, why fishing with explosives or magic is wrong, and blah, blah, blah.

Heimskr prayed to Talos that the trip would be short and straightforward. Three minutes after the prayer, a heavy rainstorm rolled in, and not only drenched the two, but turned the dirt road into a _mud_ road.

"Well smack me on the flank and call me a Changeling's little dungeon slave, looks like this trips gonna be a longer one now, but we'll be there in no time, stranger!" Caster declared, as his hooves continued on through the muck. His natural earth pony strength left him largely unaffected, if a little annoyed, by the rain.

Pushing ever so slowly towards nearby Baltimare, Line Caster decided it was time to continue, 'getting to know' his new nord acquaintance. "So anyways, like I was sayin', the best way to get a bite, is to use a proper lure, like some deep fried parasprites..."

The Priest of Talos groaned quietly to himself as the stallion ranted on and on, giving Heimskr the impression he may have finally met his equine match in the department of overzealous job obsession.

After a brutal twenty more minutes of rain, rants, and rickety carts on poorly maintained roads, the two travelers at last arrived in the city of Baltimare, an important port city of medium size on the Eastern Coast of Equestria.

Heimskr wondered to himself how such a backwoods-looking road, could lead to such a posh, exquisite looking metropolis. This was just one of the many things that still confounded the Nord about this new land.

Line Caster, after giving Heimskr directions to the nearest tavern, mercifully left the human alone to sell of his possibly inebriated crustacean catch.

The nord now walked through the crowded streets, drawing dozens of funny looks as he lugged his impossibly over-stuffed chest with him (because everypony who isn't the Dovakhiin or his followers has no concept of inventory encumbrance) to some tavern Caster had referred to simply as, "Hon's Café."

The ponies around him, while staring at him, did not stop to greet him or otherwise engage in social interaction with the nord whatsoever. They stared, then simply held there muzzles in the air, their curiosity waning as quickly as the rain fell from the rim of their back-mounted (if very fashionable) umbrellas.

He had no idea what in Talos' name a café was, but figured it sounded like someplace a ditzy, milk-drinking Imperial, High Elf, or Breton would favor. Heimskr eventually found the establishment, a modest-sized business situated in the first floor of one of the towering pony buildings of Baltimare.

Hon's Café was distinguishable by what appeared to be the sculpture of some kind of massive, graceful pink-feathered, long necked bird hanging from the second story fire-escape. Flanking the bird were neon lights proclaiming in oddly Tamrielic letters, 'Hon's Café'.

Unlike the city itself, the cafe's front entrance did little to impress the nord priest. "A pink feathered, over-sized pheasant, and signs made flashy with Alteration Magic, bah! Bet this place is run by a bunch of harpies!" Heimskr muttered.

Under his breath, he hissed. "Thalmor mages! They might be here in this land. I must be cautious!" Reluctantly, and with a profound sense of unease, Heimskr entered the establishment, still garnering stares and quiet murmuring from the pony citizens of Baltimare.

His goal was to learn more about the land than the weird book had told him, hopefully make a few connections, and find a proper place to set up and begin Talos' holy work in Equestria.

As he walked in, chest in hand, he set the large container, still slick with rainwater, onto the red and white checkered floor next to an empty metal and leather seating booth.

Some kind of strange, upbeat orchestral music Heimskr could not identify played out from weird looking devices in the corners of the café. The only instrument he could identify in the alien sound was an occasional drum beat.

The walls and windows were adorned with random motley decorations ranging from more of those strange, slender pink birds, weird black-colored grooved discs with holes in the middle of them, and unbelievably life-like paintings in color and black-and-white of various ponies.

With a grunt, he let go of the chest and sat down, noticing a menu in the center of the table. Most of the patrons gave him funny looks as he entered, but eventually returned to their newspapers, coffee mugs, or meals.

Heimskr watched them back nervously under his cowl. He stayed silent as he read the menu, before a voice cut into his analysis of the local cuisine. (Some many sweets and desserts, but no mead or mutton?! Talos have mercy on such decadence!)

"What can I getcha, hon?" A voice inquired sweetly.

Heimskr turned to see a large, matronly-looking middle aged unicorn mare wearing horn-rimmed spectacles and a white and pink apron. Her cutie mark appeared to be a cast-iron pan flipping a buttery pancake with a smiley face on it, but of course Heimskr only recognized what the pan was.

Her mane was stylized and frizzy, and was a light brown mixed with a few streaks of red, pink, blue, and possibly a little white from age. She now peered at him expectantly, a quill and notepad hovering in her pink aura in front of her.

"Ugh.. I was actually hoping for directions, but ugh..." He suddenly remembered he had been living off brandy and hard, salted beef for several weeks.

"Come to think of it, I'll take an order of umm, waffles are they called? Hit me with a little of that maple syrup too! I want to try some of this 'coffee' of yours as well, and by Dibella's sweet, sweet ta ta's, throw in some extra moon sugar!"


	4. The Menace of Baltimare

The waitress smiled at the Nord priest, almost as if he were a perfectly normal pony customer. Ironically, it actually only served to emphasize the fact that he _wasn't. _The mare's joviality was beginning to make Heimskr feel a little uneasy. Thalmor spies might be afoot, after all.

_They're so damn_ cheerful _all the time_!_ More glowing lights, weird alien music... These ponies must be hiding something! _He mused.

_Maybe the Dwarves actually turned into _ponies _when they disappeared at Red Mountain? That would explain all the weird technology, like the funky lights, the excessive use of metal, and the poor taste in decorations._

Finally writing down his order on a ticket, she continued to smile sweetly. "I have no idea who or what Dibella might be, but alrighty hon!" Her voice dragged Heimskr out of his musing.

The waitress cleared her throat. "One order of waffles with extra syrup it is, and I'll be right out to with your coffee with... Eh..what was it you asked for?" Her smile diminished slightly, and her brow furrowed in puzzlement around her horn-rimmed glasses.

Heimskr looked at the waitress in the very same bemused way many of the pony customers were looking at him. "Moon sugar! I said moon sugar!" He raised his an eyebrow at her. "Miss..."

"Name's Sunnyside dear, pleased to meet ya."

"Err, yes. The feelings mutual, I'm sure. You may call me Heimskr, Priest of Talos." Setting aside pleasantries, Heimskr let out a chuckle of exasperation. "Haven't you ponies any Khajiit in your land? You know..._cat men. _Where there's Khajiit, there's moon sugar."

Sunnyside just stared at him blankly, blinking and holding her notepad in the air via telekinesis in a rather awkward fashion.

"C'mon! I couldn't possibly have drifted _that_ far away from Tamriel! What, am I past Yokuda or something? By Shor's bones!" Heimskr exclaimed. Sunnyside frowned in confusion, her brow still furrowed.

"Sweetie, you're gonna have to be a bit more specific with me, you're just uttering words that sound like straight up _gobbledygook_!" Abandoning her confused look for a sheepish grin, she moved to make her way back, chuckling nervously.

"Coffee with extra 'moon' sugar it is then."

With haste, Sunnyside left the weird human to his grumbling and evidently profound thoughts. Rolling her eyes, she mumbled something about weird, rude foreigners, before vanishing around the corner leading to the kitchen.

Whilst waiting ever so impatiently, Heimskr groaned in boredom, playing around with the contents of the table. Holding up a small vial of reddish-colored liquid to his face, he inspected the label.

"_Cherry Jubilee's Homemade Tabasco Sauce._" He read aloud. "_Guaranteed_ _to put a little extra 'bite' into whatever ya put it on._"

Thepriest's curiosity got the better of him, and he furrowed his brow, analyzing the strange sauce. Opening up the top, he chanced a whiff of its aroma.

"ARGH! Talos have mercy, it smells like Peryite took a giant's toenail, troll fat, draugr flesh, some Riften canal water, and mixed it all with the sweat of an Orc!" He held the top of it up to the light to inspect it further, tipping it upside down.

A drop of the Tabasco Sauce fell into his eye.

"By Ysmir...Who cast a flame spell at my face? I knew you were after me, you Thalmor bastards!" The man reeled around his table clutching his eyes, and tripped over his metal chest.

Everypony was looking at him again, this time with shock, and perhaps a little bit of amusement. A few fillies and their mother even giggled at him from a corner booth on the opposite end of the café. Getting up and dusting the lower portion of his priestly robes, he cleared his throat awkwardly, running a hand through his stubble and looking from booth to booth, his eyes gazing back plaintively as they continued to burn.

"What, what are you people looking at? If you see anyone donning black robes and seem up to no good, or any guards walking and repeating the same greeting to your over and over, then for the love of Talos, _run for your life_! It means something foul is afoot!"

The patrons merely blinked at him, awkward silence pervading the room. Over in another corner, someone coughed casually. Simultaneously, the ponies shrugged him off again, a few of the ones with coffee, newspapers, and business suits flashing him the occasional scowl.

"Huh, odd reactions." Heimskr mumbled, before reorienting his trunk of junk and returning to his seat, waiting for his meal, and having survived his ordeal.

After what felt like an eternity to Heimskr...or by Akatosh's reckoning, around a minute and thirty five seconds, Sunnyside returned with the Nord's coffee. She set the cup of java down, told him his waffles would be done "lickety-split", and that she hoped regular sugar and something she called 'caffeine' already in the brew would suffice.

Begrudgingly, the Nord nodded and grasped the mug in his hands as Sunnyside made her way to another table. He surveyed the steaming hot brown liquid, and noted its taste.

Shrugging his shoulders, Heimskr took a sip of the strong-smelling beverage. The taste, was better than anything he could have imagined. He chugged the rest of it down.

Another waitress passed near him, and he held out the mug in his hand. "This drink, I quite like it!" He threw the mug to the ground, where it shattered loudly, garnering further odd looks from the other patrons, whose patience seemed oddly thick.

"ANOTHER!"

Nodding warily, the mare rushed to fulfill Heimskr's request. He downed the cup, and the waitress kept bringing him more.

Eventually, it got old and she said, "Ya know what, just take the darn whole pot!" The waitress slammed the container of coffee down on Heimskr's table just short of shattering and spilling it.

She then trotted away, grunting angrily. "They don't pay me enough to work here!" The priest paid her no mind, and set about consuming his new most favorite beverage in the whole of Nirn.

And...then the caffeine took effect.

The Nord's mind went on a joyride, much like when one raised their speed and agility to ridiculous heights, than drank several skooma vials. The constant occurrences of random citizens climbing and falling from cathedral steeples, jumping over city walls, and harassing Imperial Guards by running circles around them was one of the main reasons it had been banned in Cyrodiil over two hundred years ago.

Now fully zoning out, Heimskr inevitably began to see things again as he clamped his hands to the table edge, his body shaking like a noisy old Dwemer machine in need of some oiling.

"Whoa, who needs skooma? This stuff is _far _more worth my time!"

The same fillies who had giggled at him earlier did so again. Their laughter came into the Nord's ears as if they were in slow motion. Come to think of it, _everything_ seemed to be in ultra slow motion, as if the Dovakhiin had suddenly used his time-bending shout somewhere nearby.

Just as Sunnyside slowly materialized again to bring the man his waffles and maple syrup, M'aiq the Liar chose now to pay the priest a visit once again, sprinting in from the kitchen with supernatural speed.

Heimskr greeted him with wide eyes. "Wha...? What do you want now?"

The Khajiit chuckled at him, his feline eyes glimmering with all the mischievous mirth of a feisty kitten.

"Good day to you as well, oh great 'Anointed One of Talos'." M'aiq chuckled once more.

"Calm yourself. M'aiq comes bearing another message from the great Storm Crown himself. There is a settlement you see, far to the west. A quaint town most fair, and peaceful. There, you will find the best place to commence your work for Tiber Septim."

The cat-man yawned, as if he had just drank a large bowl of warm milk. "M'aiq must be going now."

"But...but wait!"

M'aiq sighed, his ears flattening against his head. Turning towards the still wigged-out priest, he replied, "Yes...?"

"What is the name of this town of which you speak? Ere I leave, I need to know of a few things at least!" Heimskr paused for a second, then added, "Oh, and have you heard any good rumors, Khajiit?"

Abandoning his impatience, M'aiq flashed his pointy-toothed grin at the Nord. "Ponyville, you will find. Ah, and before M'aiq forgets... Khajiit remembers hearing mention of the main ruler of this land. Some may say in hushed whispers that she is secretly a troll hiding in the form of an alicorn pony, and steals from the bakers of the land at high moon each night."

Heimskr gave him a worried look, and M'aiq's grin widened. "No worries, priest. Khajiit is certain these are simply the idle ramblings of immature kittens looking only to satire their monarch to past the time."

As if just remembering it, he added. "I read it in something they call, the _Ponyville_ _Confidential_. M'aiq does not understand the contradictory name, but that aside he finds the publication quite tickling!"

He yawned again, then waved at Heimskr casually. "Well... Until next we meet, Heimskr the Doomsayer."

Giving M'aiq an annoyed, wide-eyed look, and rasing his mug of coffee to him, the priest simply replied, "Aye."

M'aiq motioned to leave, but one final thing pressed into the Nord's mind. "Wait, wait!"

The robed Khajiit hissed in annoyance."What?! Khajiit has places to be."

"Do you have any moon sugar? Ugh, you know... just for the road then?"

The Liar rolled his eyes, and slipped a pouch out of his robe, tossing it one handed onto Heimskr's table. "This does not validate your bigoted stereotypes of the Moon-Born of Elsweyr, filthy Nord.

Time regained its normal pace, and before the priest could rebuke him, M'aiq the Liar sprinted out the front door past everypony, gone from the room in approximately two and a half seconds.

Sunnyside reached the table, looking oddly flustered as she set the tray full of waffles and sweet maple syrup onto Heimskr's table. The Nord's stomach growled as he analyzed the local cuisine lingering in front of him.

"Say, Heimskr, did you just by any chance feel an odd draft pass through here?"

He gave her an odd look as he picked up a fork and knife. "Ugh, no. Pray tell, why do you ask?"

The waitress put a hoof to her muzzle inquisitively. "Well, it fell like a Wonderbolt had just up and flew through the place!" She looked around the roomful of customers, then shrugged. "Well, I suppose there would be a large mess of papers if that had actually happened."

Sunnyside waved the odd occurrence off with a lighthearted chuckle. "Enjoy, hon."

Humming a pleasant tune in contrast to the strange music playing throughout the café, the mare made her way to other tables. Seeing her go, Heimskr was oddly reminded of how his own mother used to hum whenever she would make breakfast.

Without hesitating, Heimskr shrugged off the weird exchanges he had just had in the café, and dug into his meal like there was no tomorrow. He used up all of the syrup zealously as he ate. A few ponies in the booths on either side of him made faces at his lacking in table manners.

Looking back at them with syrup all up and down his face and chest, he glared at them. "What?" He said, with a mouthful of waffles.

He was again met with silence and more annoyed scowls.

Once again, the patrons begrudgingly returned to their own business, leaving the Nord to his own accord. Upon finishing, Sunnyside appeared at his table again in the supernatural way that waiters and waitress seem to do, and inquired if that would be all. Heimskr nodded and ordered more.

And more.

And...more.

After a certain amount of time, Heimskr finally finished his waffles. The priest was so stuffed, he looked like a taxidermy bear in a hunter's lodge.

With the main course out of the way, Heimskr returned to his coffee. Pulling out the pouch of Moon Sugar the Khajiit had reluctantly given him, he put some of it in his coffee. As it would seem, this was a catastrophic combination.

"Will that be all Heimskr?" Sunnyside inquired, teleporting to his table once again.

The Nord sat in his seat, wigging out again. "Nah... that'll be all lass. How... much for it all?"

"Here's your bill, and I'll clean up those plates for ya dear."

Grasping his ticket with shaky hands, he read the bill aloud. "Fifty seven bits. What in Talos' name are bits?" He shook his head, too impatient and zoned out to care. With a strange amount of coordination given his current over-hyper state, the Nord retrieved fifty seven septims from his coin purse, and deposited them on the table.

Seeing the gold coins, and assuming them to be bits, Sunnyside flashed him a concerned look, then walked away, dirty dishes and ticket floating beside her. Just as Heimskr was about to consume more of the narcotic Moon Sugar powder, the rainstorm outside flashed a lick of lightning.

Without warning, the lighting jumped to the _inside _of the building.

Suddenly, everypony's sweet rolls were struck by the lightning, causing the patrons to jump in shock. The sweet pastries began to quiver and convulse, as if coming to life. A mare wearing a finely decorated chapeau screamed with a jarring intensity.

Rising from their plates, the sweet rolls grew legs, and jumped to the floor. Heimskr watched the proceedings with pure terror. Mudcrabs dressed like aristocrats were one thing, but this was a new class of creepy.

The newly summoned sweet roll trolls roared, angered to find that their new territories were inhabited by colorful-maned intruders, and of course one robed priest of Talos.

Sweet roll trolls are a common sight in bakers' nightmares, where they would often render bakeries into messy disaster zones in a matter of seconds, or scare away customers at twice that speed. Such sweet-toothed beings are rivaled only in power and ferocity by the menacing gingerbread men.

Their skin was the same golden brown like the pastry dough, but instead of nasty matted fur, their bodies were lined with white streams of cinnamon sugary frosting. Nevertheless, the trolls peered at any all through three beady little eyes, and roared again, jumping up and down and pounding their powerful fists into the ground like agitated apes.

The creepiness continued from there, for their roars were not the normal roars of the trolls of Tamriel either. Instead, it sounded like they were laughing in a deep goofy voice.

One of the creatures stamped past a group of shaking ponies, and hit the jukebox in the far corner with his balled fist, evidentially finding the current soundtrack to be in poor taste.

A new song replaced the lively jazz music of the café. It sounded like a deep-voiced person was singing the word 'troll' in a ridiculous manner.

The song was equally creepy, but was at least backed up by lively background instruments.

"_Trollololollllol, huh ha, ha, huh ha, ha, HA! Lol, lol, lollol laaaa!" _The music was finally too much. The pony customers looked at the Heimskr and glared at him dangerously.

"_Summoner_!"

"He's probably trying to scare us out and rob us!"

"Why is it so difficult for a business stallion to just enjoy his coffee in _peace_!"

Ignoring the trolls, who continued bouncing up and down in annoyance, several unicorns in the establishment grabbed him and his trunk in their telekinesis, and tossed him out the front door and into the rain.

"Heathens! How dare you assume a priest of the Divines to be a filthy summoner of Daedra!" Heimskr hollered, his vision colorful and warped from the Moon Sugar.

The rain appeared to be blowing sideways, and he heard something like festive party music again.

"_Oh! The new guy will be here soon, he's already in Equestria!"_ An unknown feminine voice declared again.

"_Pinkie Pie, seriously you are starting to really creep us all out. See me at the Library tomorrow so we can begin our therapy sessions again."_

"_But Twilight, those are so _boring!_"_

Heimskr pulled himself up, groaning in the rain. The rainstorm had turned into a thunderstorm, and few ponies could be seen about in the streets now. Hefting his trunk with him, Heimskr grumbled and made his way to the nearest shop, eager to offload his chest of goods in exchange for lighter, more suitable traveling supplies.

Exactly thirty seconds after the Nord had gone around the street corner, the sweet roll trolls smashed and jumped through the windows of Hon's Café, scattering out in random directions into the rain-slicked streets of Baltimare.

Heimskr could not believe what he was reading when he looked at the sign to the shop in front of him. For some odd reason, the man decided to enter the shop regardless.

"Everything's for sale my friend, _everything_! If I had a sister, I'd sell her in a second!"

The mare looked at the Breton man wide-eyed, her jaw agape. "I'd even by one of your relatives if you gave me a decent enough price. Ha, ha-ha! That's a little joke!"

She gasped in disgust, slapping him across his sideburn-covered cheek with her forehoof.

"You weird, strange little ruffian! I shan't chance a wander into this horrendous establishment ever again!" The mare declared, storming out of the premises, ignoring the Nord as she past him.

"Gahhh!" Belethor cried, rubbing the side of his face with a single grimy hand. "Blasted upper-crust ponies, wouldn't know a good deal if it teleported up their..." He finally noticed he had a new visitor.

"Ahemmm! Welcome to Belethor's General Goods, how can I help... Oh no, not _you_ again! You aren't here to start ranting about the Thalmor being in Equestria and it being the end of days are you?"

Heimskr sneered. "It's you, the milk-drinking Breton pawnbroker!"

Belethor gave him a scathing rebuke. "Huh, so I see her majesty Celestia has let fair Equestria become the dumping ground for Tamriel's excess garbage, eh? First the ship full of adventurers with injured knees, then the boat full of adventurers hunting for spears and daedric crescent blades and spell tomes of levitation, now rambling priests? Oh man, Gods have mercy on me! I left Whiterun for these very reasons!"

"Enough blather, I shan't waste anymore of mighty Talos' time, I must trade, then be on my way Breton!"

"Oh, for the love of...FINE! Show me your junk and I'll name ya a price."

The pawnbroker was greeted by a trunk full of various junk, but at least one thing of value. Cyrodillic Brandy, and lots of it.

In the end, Belethor gave him over two thousand bits for the brandy and miscellaneous items, including the trunk itself and the rest of the skooma. He offered to take the Nord's septims in hand, claiming only bits would be accepted in Equestria.

Heimskr obliged and took the thousand bits in exchange for his original septims, got his satchel of stuff, both old and new, and made his way out.

"Do come back." Belethor called out after him as he vanished out into the rain. The sleazy merchant mumbled excitedly to himself on how he was going to melt down the septims and make them into gold trim for garments.

"That snobbish garment dressmaker over in the western town will pay a small fortune for this gold, I'll be sure to market it at as 'extra exotic'. The fools won't ever know the difference." Belethor concluded, chuckling like a maniac.

Back outside, things had turned to chaos in the open air market place near Belethor's shop.

A large tarp was pulled over the merchant stalls to provide bustling shoppers shelter from the rain. But under it, something else besides the storm was threatening to ruin the business day.

Swarms of newly created sweet roll trolls overwhelmed the place, their brethren having raided and trashed bakeries, creating more of themselves and looking for more bakeries to target.

Now reaching a critical population, they had now decided to do what trolls do best, trolling ponies.

Dozens of ponies ran about, their faces covered in sugar and frosting from the sweet roll and cake projectiles the creatures launched.

"Please, no! I'm a diabetic!" Somepony said.

"No, no not the mane!" Another cried out.

"Hey, sweet rolls!"

"Sweet Celestia, you...MONSTERS! This isn't even one hundred percent real sugar!" A food critic declared as he inspected the sugary carnage.

A random wood elf appeared out of nowhere in the periphery of Heimskr's vision as he observed the trolling in progress.

"Fimmion want sweet roll!" The crazy little elf attacked one of the trolls with a fork, managing to slay it in one strike. He then began to nibble on its skin. "Sweeet Roooollll." He declared.

Suddenly, somepony from the café coincidentally noticed the Nord from earlier, believing him to have summoned the evil beasts.

He ran to a group of guards wearing bibs and wielding butter knives. The unicorns listened to the tattling stallion, before turning to look at Heimskr suspiciously. As the man stood his ground, the guardsponies trotted towards him purposefully, their bibs billowing in the rain and their butter knives at the ready for troll ambushes.

Doing some last minute thinking, Heimskr decided he had only one option.

Pulling the remainder of the coffee pot from his satchel, Heimskr chugged the contents down, and bellowed, "TALOS BLESS ME!"

"You there, halt!"

"Stop, in the name of the Princesses!"

"You will pay with your blood!"

Heimskr broke off into a sprint straight past the unicorn guards and out of town. The guards attempted to gallop after him as he slowly disappeared into the rain-soaked foliage west of Baltimare, the coast now far behind him. The guards had been easily ditched by the priest as he sprinted past tree after tree.

At last, he was free from their pursuit.

Checking the map he had bought from Belethor, as well as the 'legitimate' _Adventurer's Guide to Equestria_ as the Breton had put it, Heimskr discovered he had several hundred more miles before he would be able to reach the town M'aiq had labeled as Ponyville.

"Dammit!" The man swore. "How am I suppose to get there in decent time to begin my holy work? If only I had a spell tome of teleportation..."

Lightning struck the ground next to him, and he vanished into vortex of purple energy before he could say anything else.

Everypony was trying careful not to slip on the mud from the storm yesterday as they strode around the Ponyville market this fine, sunny morning.

Spike was no exception, as he hustled and bustled from stall to stall, eager to cross off all the items on Twilight Sparkle's ever expansive list of shopping lists that one needs to do shopping for.

While this wasn't the baby dragon's most favorite task among his list of responsibilities as Sparkle's assistant, Spike nevertheless enjoyed the prospect of meeting new ponies each and every time he set out. And besides, it was preferable to having to deal with Pinkie Pie as Twilight continued in her ever-so-futile attempts to try to understand just what makes the party pony tick.

A murmuring in the crowd nearby drew Spike's attention away from a cherry stall he had been perusing.

Pushing his way through the crowd by way of crawling under several ponies, Spike surveyed what it was that had everypony's attention so focused. What he saw was... weird, to say the least.

For there, standing on a hastily built wooden platform, with a strange looking shrine at his back, was a robed human.

The fact that the stranger was human wasn't particularly interesting to Spike. Equestria would get the occasional Tsaesci human, serpent dragon, or tiger-folk merchant come in from the distant western continent of Akavir to trade exotic pottery. Rather, it was what the man was doing, that ignited the baby dragon's curiosity.

The orange-robed Nord was standing on the highest bier of the platform, and had his arms held out high, as if reaching to the stars.

"TRUST IN ME PONYVILLE, TRUST IN HEIMSKR! FOR I ALONE, HAVE BEEN ANOINTED BY THE NINTH, TO SAVE YOU ALL FROM THE WRATH OF THE THALMOR, WITH THE POWER OF MY ASS MAN!"

"TALOS HAS CHOSEN MY HUMBLE SELF, TO INFORM YOUR LAND OF THE GREATNESS, THAT IS THE NINE DIVINES!"


End file.
